


The Dark Brotherood Forever

by googleduckuments



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4189182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/googleduckuments/pseuds/googleduckuments
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It told him, you can't stop the Dark Brotherhood. Never could." -Emperor Titus Mede II</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dark Brotherood Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the fact that even if you choose the "Destroy The Dark Brotherood" quest, Babette, Cicero, and the Night Mother remain unaccounted for.

Babette supposed she should have seen it coming.

The little vampire had been in this business for many, many years longer than any other person in the Sanctuary. The Brotherhood in it’s prime had prided itself in the utter secrecy with which it carried out its affairs. Astrid was a reasonably competent leader, sure, but in her desperation to keep some semblance of a foothold in Skyrim, she’d had to order increasingly overt moves to find people who had prayed for contracts. And Sithis only knew where the man who supposedly had the Night Mother was, so it wasn’t like they had any chance of getting a Listener anytime soon.

The Dark Brotherhood was doomed. It was only a matter of time.

Babette was, like usual, sitting on the little ledge overlooking Lis’s enclosure. Out in the common room, she heard shouting; it sounded like Arnbjorn and Veezara, and… a voice she didn’t recognize, loud and prideful and definitely not friendly.

For a moment, she froze- the sounds in the other room sounded increasingly like a fight, and despite being immortal she was definitely not invulnerable, especially being in the body of a child. If whoever it was got past two of the Brotherhood’s best melee fighters, she wouldn’t stand a chance.

The first available hiding space was a barrel that had once held herbs, but was now empty save for a few crushed leaves at the bottom. Babette clambered awkwardly in, and put the lid back on over herself as well as she could. At least her vampirism was working to her advantage here, she realized ironically- undoubtedly she would be shaking with adrenaline if her heart still had a beat, and would quite possibly be risking suffocation in the enclosed space.

For a painfully long time, she stayed perfectly still. She tried not to think about what it might mean that the common room had quieted.

Heavy footsteps came up the ramp.

“Come on out and face me, assassins!” a deep voice taunted. The footsteps went right past her hiding place.

She heard Lis hiss and spit, cringed at the sound of her exoskeleton being crushed under a heavy weapon.

“How dare you?!” Gabriella’s voice rang out, from the kitchen. Magic flew, crackling. It ended abruptly, the elf hitting the ground not far from where Babette was hiding, groaning out her last breath.

The footsteps moved on, into the kitchen. Babette cursed herself for her cowardice, but reminded herself that it made no difference- she would not be able to fight whoever this self-righteous mystery attacker was, and her “innocent young girl” act only worked when the other person couldn’t get a clear look at her vampiric gold eyes.

She heard Nazir fall, Festus too. Astrid must have been the first to go, she realized. The attacker’s metal-booted footsteps wandered the sanctuary for a while after, presumably looting anything of worth. When he came back into the room, she stayed as still as possible, praying that he wouldn’t be so thorough in his search for treasures that he would look in every barrel.

Evidently, Sithis heard the prayer of his last remaining child, and the man walked right past her hiding place.

Babette lost track of how long she waited, to make sure the attacker had truly left, before she finally climbed back out of the barrel.

\--------

Babette wasn’t entirely sure what to do with herself now.

She was not horrifically grieved, as many would have been- 400 years of coming to terms with the fact that everyone she loved would die before her helped with that.

It took quite a bit of effort with her tiny body, but she managed to construct a makeshift pyre where Lis had lived, as it had a vent in the roof so the smoke from the burning bodies wouldn’t fill the Sanctuary. So, the rest of the Brotherhood became a pile of ashes and some blood smears on the walls, and Babette was the only one left in a big, empty sanctuary.

She saw no reason to leave- it was reasonably safe now that everyone thought the Dark Brotherhood was gone for good, it was warm, and the woods surrounding it were full of alchemy ingredients. Not to mention that the road running nearby was a good source of unwitting travellers to trick into becoming her next meal.

Then, one day, she heard the Black Door open.

The mystery attacker from months before couldn’t possibly be back, right? Wildly, Babette thought that if it was him again, she would actually face him this time, regardless of the consequences. She hopped out of her chair and strode down into the common room.

Her surprise could hardly be described when she was not faced with a heavily-armored Nord, but rather… a clown?

“Oh! Hello!” chirped the man, with a twitchy little wave, looking at her uncertainly. “This… is the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary, yes? Where is everyone else? Cicero has come a very long way, you see, and he’d hate to-”

“They’re dead,” Babette cut him off. “I’m the only one left. Who are you?”

The jester’s eyebrows went up, and then down. “You are… a Dark Sister? The only one left?” He sighed, and shook his head. “Oh, Sithis. Cicero had dearly hoped he wouldn’t get here too late. He has the Night Mother with him, you see.”

Babette gasped in recognition. “You’re the one who sent those letters to Astrid, aren’t you? Why are you… dressed like a jester?”

“Cicero could ask you a similar question, as you appear to be a ten-year-old girl,” the jester, who Babette supposed was named Cicero, judging from his speaking in the third person, sniped back.

“All right, fine, let’s just accept that neither of us is who we appear to be, and move on,” Babette sighed. “Yes, I am the only one left. Some… bastard came through a while back and killed everyone else. I only survived because I hid in a barrel.”

Somewhat unexpectedly, Cicero looked genuinely sympathetic. “My deepest condolences, Sister. Cicero knows only too well what it is like to lose your Family.”

Babette smiled wryly. “Well, not my entire Family, apparently. And perhaps there is hope for us yet- you did say you had the Night Mother, right?”

“Yes, Cicero does!” the man’s disposition brightened abruptly. “She sits in my wagon outside. Cicero came here all the way from the Dawnstar sanctuary with her.”

“The Dawnstar Sanctuary? As in the one that’s been abandoned for hundreds of years?” Babette asked, a plan beginning to form in her head.

“The very one! The door and all of it’s spectral guardians remain intact- they recognized Cicero as Keeper and let him through.”

“So what you’re saying is, we could go back there, with the Night Mother, and set up shop again as a new Dark Brotherhood?” Babette grinned.

Cicero seemed startled, as if the idea hadn’t actually occured to him. Then, he started to laugh, a grating cackle that would have been somewhat irritating if Babette hadn’t suddenly been in a rather jubilant mood herself. “Why, yes, Sister! Yes, we could…”

\--------

The Dragonborn was in a pretty good mood.

He’d finally led the Stormcloaks to victory, driving the Empire from Skyrim for good. With his efforts, Skyrim was finally becoming a better place to live- the Dark Brotherhood gone, the Thieves Guild purged from the sewers of Riften, the vampire menace brought to an end. Even the Companions had turned out to be a bunch of Daedra-worshipping heretics, but it wasn’t like a few mangy werewolves were any match for him.

Next step was to take on the dragons- Delphine was right, that bastard Paarthurnax would have to be brought down, so he wouldn’t start getting any ideas after he killed Alduin. That wouldn’t be too difficult. Even dragons were barely a challenge for him now...

The Dragonborn stood up. Had he just heard the front door open? If Calder was sneaking out again to do Divines knew what, he swore he’d flay him alive.

He stomped down the stairs to the ground floor of Hjerim, ready to give his housecarl a piece of his mind, only to find said housecarl slumped on the floor, blood pooling under him. The Dragonborn swore, whirling to go back upstairs and get a weapon from his armory.

Turning his back to the kitchen was the last mistake he ever made. An ebony dagger sunk into his kidney from behind, and he fell, colliding heavily with the stairs. A voice singing maniacally behind him was the last thing the Dragonborn ever heard.

“Big mean Dragonborn thinks he’s won- but Sithis’s work has just begun!”


End file.
